reddit_wrestling_federationfandomcom-20200213-history
2/4/2013
PART 1 A video package showcases last week’s Battleground, concluding with HvX attacking Mikko Paatalo and Sara. When the camera comes inside the United Center, Mikko Paatalo and Sara are shown on the screen Mikko and Sara are standing backstage. Mikko is dressed in faded black jeans and a Chicago Blackhawks hockey jersey, his hair is tied back, eXtreme Title belt over his right shoulder, sporting a neckbrace. His eyes are glassy and distant. Sara, by contrast, is in a long, simple black dress, her eyes are clear and focused, and she is holding her dented titanium briefcase. Camera pans out to show Vickie Saint James, microphone in hand VSJ: Ladies and gentlemen, your eXtreme Champion, Mikko Paatalo. Mikko, we’re all a little surprised you’re here after that devastating attack last week at the hands of the Hurtsville Express. What do you have to say to those who doubt you will be in action at Valentine’s Day Massacre? Mikko: …the chicken, won’t stop dancing. have to stop the dancing chicken. VSJ: Excuse m… Sara grabs Vickie’s hand and yanks Vickie and the microphone to her Sara: What Mikko is trying to say, then, is that he will indeed be cleared to compete at Valentine’s Day Massacre, and indeed he will defeat James Harshaw to retain, then, the eXtreme Championship. He will, then, defend this title against any and all challengers, then, the deserving, and the undeserved. Vickie tries to pull the microphone back but Sara is not letting go. Sara: Furthermore, then, your Sara glares at Vickie friends made a very bold statement, then, last week, a statement then that must not be ignored. Barney and his pet kitty, then, made a mistake. Vickie gives up on getting her hand back and leans forward to speak into the mic VSJ: I’m sorry, Barney…? Sara: Yes, then, large, purple, claims to be prehistoric, laughs all the time, mediocre production values. Yes, then, Barney, although now, he is much less terrifying than he was on children’s television. As I was saying, Victoria, before you interrupted, Barney and his pet made their statement. Made their mistake. Mistakes, then, have consequences. To their misfortune, then, we have the patience. Patience, then, like proverbial chopping block. Their reckoning will come, then, but it will be on our terms. Sara looks over her shoulder at Mikko, then stares directly at Vickie Sara: For your benefit, then, I recommend your leaving of our presence, then, before something unfortunate might then happen to those pretty looks of yours, something unfortunate, then, that might cause your friends to discard you like the rotten piece of meat your soul has become, a soul be both know, then, you are struggling to hide behind that precious little smile. Sara throws Vickie’s hand back at her. Vickie, terrified, runs off. The camera remains on the Finns. Sara steps toward the camera, which cuts backwards slightly in response. Sara: We’ll be seeing you all, soon then. Very, very soon. ————————————————————————————————- MATCH ONE: TROY STONE VS RJ SUPERNOVA (NON-TITLE) Douglas Laurie: “This non-title contest is set for one fall! Introducing first…from Stone Mountain, Georgia Six., standing feet and one inch tall and weighing 225 pounds. He is the current RWF International Champion…Troy Stone!” ”Fireproof” by Pillar plays as Troy Stone comes to the ring looking ridiculously pissed off and waving his arms in frustration. He gets in the ring in motions for his music to be cut. Troy: No…no…no…this is all wrong. Announcer, you’re going to read this cue card and do this the correct way. We’ll keep doing this every week until you get it right! Laurie: Um, my apologies, Mr. Stone. This non-title contest is set for one fall Introducing first…from Stone Mountain, Georgia, standing six feet and one inch tall and weighing 225 pounds He is the… Douglas whispers to Troy Stone “can I say this?” Troy: Do it NOW! Laurie: …He is the Real World Champion…Troy Stone. The crowd collectively boos Troy Stone as he soaks in the majesty. Troy: Tonight is going to be the next chapter in the storied career of wrestling’s living legend, Troy Stone. Not only am I about to put RJ Supernova out to pasture once and for all, but tonight Derrick Anderson has an announcement about the future of former FWF employees. Troy pauses to shake his head. Clearly, he’s going to recognize my World Championship because everyone knows I am uniting the entire planet under the banner of Lord Stone. Now bring out this week’s peasant. Laurie is seen scowling at Stone, but he continues. Laurie: And his opponent, from San Luis Obispo, California. Standing six feet, four inches tall, and weighing 227 pounds, he is… RJ SUPERNOOOVA!!! Supernova runs in, and begins getting hyped up. He runs to the ring and climbs one of the turnbuckles, yelling to the crowd. DING! Stone runs in right off the bat and leaps straight into Supernova, tackling him hard into the corner. Supernova takes a few smacks to the head, but pushes Stone back, then climbs out to the apron. Andrews: Big start here! What RJ Supernova planning? Slam: Whatever it is, it won’t work. Andrews: What makes you say that? Supernova dodges a wild swing for his head, and almost loses his balance. He grabs the ropes to steady himself, then dodges another attack. Supernova moves quick, vaulting himself over the ropes and hitting a hard kick onto Stone’s chest. Stone falls back as Supernova collects his footing.. Andrews: Well, what about that? Slam: Obviously, that wasn’t what he intended, smart guy. Get your head in the game! Supernova runs in to make an attack, but Stone rolls out of the way and catches RJ’s leg with his feet. Supernova falls hard, hitting the top of his head on the bottom rope. Stone gets to his feet as Supernova rolls around, clutching his head. Andrews: Ooh, that was a painful landing for RJ Supernova! Is he going to be able to continue? Slam: That’s all up to referee Damian Drewbinsky, but I doubt this match is going to get called just for that. Supernova finally stands up, only to be floored by Stone once again, with Stone hitting a powerful running lariat. Andrews: Ouch! Supernova rolls out of the ring, still holding his head. Stone wastes no time in hopping onto the ropes, springboarding up into the air and hitting a plancha on Supernova. Andrews: Oh my God! Troy Stone! Slam: The Real World Champion is just ruthless! Stone gets to his feet quickly, then forces Supernova back into the ring. As soon as Supernova is back on his feet, Stone moves straight back in and tries for his finisher. However, Supernova manages to sidestep Stone and run for the ropes. Supernova leaps forward and springboards off the ropes back towards Stone, crashing into him with a cross body. Supernova holds on for a pin. 1… 2… Stone kicks out. Supernova rolls out of the way, and the two stand, staring each other down. Andrews: Here comes RJ Supernova’s big comeback! Let’s see if he can change this match’s momentum! Slam: Don’t be so sure, yet. There’s still a lot of fight left in the Real World Champion. After ten seconds of standing still, both wrestlers charge at each other. They both leap at the same time, both trying for a big kick. And- Andrews: OW! Slam: Aw man, nut shot! Somehow, Supernova and Stone collide, crotch first, in midair. They both fall to the ring, curled up in pain. Andrews: I just can’t believe it! Slam: I know! This is like watching a great movie! Andrews: I don’t know about a great movie, but sure. They’re both still on the ground. The referee checks the pair, then starts a ten count. 1! Stone shakes his head and starts moving to the ring first. 2! Supernova begins struggling to stand. 3! Stone reaches the ropes, and starts trying to pull himself up. 4! Same with Supernova. Both are just hanging off of the bottom rope. Andrews: Who’s going to get to their feet first? Slam: I wish I knew! 5! Supernova pulls himself up to the second rope. Stone is still struggling to get up. Andrews: Watch RJ here… 6! Supernova is on his feet! The crowd surges as Supernova leans in the corner, shouting at Stone to “Get up!” He keeps calling it, over and over, until the crowd joins in. Crowd: GET! UP! GET! UP! Andrews: These people want to see more! When Stone finally gets to his feet, Supernova hoists himself to the top rope. When Stone stumbles into the center of the ring, Supernova launches himself up, going for a big dropkick. Andrews: What’s this? Just as the kick is about to connect, Stone steps to the side! Supernova collides with the mat hard, arching his back in pain. Stone makes a smug look at the crowd and shrugs nonchalantly as they begin booing him. Slam: I’ll tell you what that was: that was a mistake! Stone waits for Supernova to stand. It takes a long time, but Supernova finally struggles to his feet. Immediately, Stone rushes in and hits his finisher, the Stone Wall! Andrews: Stone Wall! Stone Wall on Supernova! Slam: It’s over! Stone goes for the pin. 1… 2… 3! ————————————————————————————————- As Troy Stone celebrates in the ring, his music is suddenly cut off by Crazy Train-Bullet For My Valentine and the crowd explodes as Derrick Anderson walks onto the stage JA: He’s here! The chairman of the board! RS: And he doesn’t look happy! Stone scowls and looks at Anderson DA: Mr. Stone; you have been running around with MY company’s property for far, far too long. You are a disgrace to the International Championship and it’s about damn time that title comes back where it belongs! Fans: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!! Stone starts yelling at Anderson from the ring as Anderson walks down the ramp DA: You shut your damn mouth! Anderson climbs between the ropes as RJ Supernova walks over to him. The two shake hands and Nova stands between Stone and Anderson. Stone surveys and slides out of the ring DA: Hang on Mr. Stone! I haven’t told you your opponent for the Valentine’s Day Massacre! Stone looks at Anderson with a sour look on his face DA: You will defend the INTERNATIONAL Championship against one half of the Tag Team Champions…THE FOILER! Fans: HVX! HVX! HVX! HVX! HVX! DA: AND! If you get counted out or disqualified….then you will be STRIPPED of the International Championship!!! Stone starts yelling and flipping out on the stage as Anderson smiles DA: And if you have an issue with that, Mr. Stone, I am more than willing to discuss your contract. Anderson starts to laugh as Stone continues flipping out JA: Looks like Mr. Anderson is getting a measure of revenge on Troy Stone for the FWF RS: This isn’t going to go over well. ————————————————————————————————- COMMERCIAL ————————————————————————————————- PART 2 Ricardo Sacramento walks out onto the ramp, crown and all. He’s not running like he usually does, but instead walking at a very measured, even pace. He gets into the ring, and accepts a microphone from outside the ring. Climbing a turnbuckle, Sacramento sits down, waiting for his music to die down, revealing a quiet crowd. Ricardo: What, no cheers? There’s a halfhearted response from some fans, but not too much of a reaction. Sacramento rolls his eyes and continues. Ricardo: Lately, I’ve been on a losing streak. That’s one of those givens, isn’t it? In a world like wrestling, in the one of a kind universe that exists inside this ring, and in front of all the people we’ve had the pleasure to entertain- He pauses for another small cheer. Ricardo: - there are many things that you can expect. The first is that you’re gonna see some of the goofiest people in the universe come together solely for the express purpose of putting their bodies on the line, risking every functioning part of their bodies for everyone who pays for a ticket! The audience cheers at this compliment to both the wrestlers and the crowd. During the cheer, he leans back to a camera behind him and adds another quiet line. Ricardo: And all the guys streaming it online, but we don’t talk about that. Slam: What did he say? Sacramento stands up on the top rope and jumps down to the mat. Ricardo: You’re also going to see phases of things. There’s gonna be phases of who comes, who goes, and how everybody acts. I wanna ask if you remember something. He takes off his crown and reaches into it, pulling out an old mask. Andrews: Is that Alex Geraldson’s old mask? Ricardo: This is the same kind of mask that you used to be able to buy off of the RWF merch page. It’s a nifty little mask, but a bit too small for me. It’s the perfect size for a kid, or maybe a little man child. A couple people in the crowd call out “ooh,” which Sacramento acknowledges with a shrug. Ricardo: Whatever. the reason I have this mask is because my kids were the biggest fans in the world of the RWF. Not in size, but mis niños have more than enough heart to make up for being six. You know what the problem is, though? They just happened to have the bad timing to be born in one of those “phases” I was talking about. He throws the mask on the ground and stamps on it. He looks angry now, and when he speaks again, there’s a fire in his voice. Sacramento: Alexander Geraldson, in all the pomp and circumstance of his “reinvention,” or whatever the hell you want to call it, has decided to try to “change things.” What things? What’s so wrong with the RWF, with all of wrestling, that is so impossibly messed up that he needs to change? Sacramento whirls around and points to the entrance ramp. Ricardo: ALEX GERALDSON! I’M CALLING YOU OUT! You FORGOT what it means to be AMAZING! Alex’s Theme Song Plays as he walks to the entrance ramp, microphone in hand. Alex looks around the audience, who are booing and beginning chants of “Alex Sucks”. Alex looks at Ricardo and drops to his knees. Alex brings the microphone to his face.. Alex: “Ricardo…I’m going to surprise you here and say that you and I agree with something. This business…is a cycle of phases, because she never knows what she wants…these people..never know what they want.” Alex moves a hand through his hair and pauses for the crowd to finish chanting, a mix of “You’re Amazing” and “Alex Sucks”.. Alex: “You see!? Even as I am talking, there are people who either love me..or hate me. And Ric..it only took me until just now to realize..that NONE of it matters! It doesn’t matter if they love me or hate me, whether I am champion or not, I..as well as you…are just pawns in this cycle of phases.” “The difference…between you and I..is that I am making it my business..to CHANGE IT ALL!!” Alex stands up and begins to slowly walk towards the ring. He points to the mask that is on the mat. Alex: “What you have there..is a relic. A relic of a time where I still believed that this sport still had meaning…that I was significant in the development of this promotion…but you know what?” Alex takes a slight pause to look around the crowd, and then focuses back on Ricardo. Alex: “If I leave today..in a year..no one would remember me. IF I NEVER CAME TO THIS TRAIN-WRECK OF A COMPANY IN THE FIRST PLACE…there would be someone to take my place, to sell merchandise to your kids, and to have the fans cheer for.” “Ricardo..I like you…Your wrestling ability is second to none..and most importantly…you are intelligent..that is why I am telling this to you..(hushed) as a friend… that it’s just not worth it anymore Ric..THEY’RE NOT WORTH IT!!…These people have soiled the name of professional wrestling! Not just the fans! The wrestlers, with their “I’ve done nothing, but I should be awarded” mentality..the agents, willing to sell their SOUL for a few dollars..the executives who run this industry, who sign your paychecks?…They don’t know how to run this profession anymore.” Alex walks up the steel steps and is standing on the apron. Alex: “Anyone can think these thoughts Ric..and I am willing to bet my LIFE that you have had some of those thoughts..the difference between what’s in your mind and me is that I am acting upon it! I can’t take it anymore, Ricardo..(almost sobbing)..it can’t be run like this ANYMORE!! Alex goes into the ring and stands face to face with Ricardo. Alex: “I am willing to take that road, that NOBODY has yet to take..a mission very few could even dream about..Ricardo…I am going to save professional wrestling…” The crowd is mixed, about 75% are booing Alex, while 25% are cheering him. “Me and Chris..we are going to resurrect this business from the corruption it had found its way to…Ricardo..” Alex extends his hand. Alex: “Join us…” The crowd is in shock, as well as Ricardo. Alex: “DON’T LISTEN TO THEM RICK!! LISTEN TO ME…(takes a few breaths)..I am saving this business from itself, nothing more..and nothing less. Call me a heel if you’d like..but I am only looking out for the very last thing I hold close to my heart..Join The Movement, Ricardo..Let us turn those thoughts in your head..into reality. Let us see a NEW age of wrestling where prestige, honor, and reputation are the held in the highest regard….Follow me Ricardo..into the Enlightenment of Professional Wrestling…” Ricardo stands still, speechless. He tries to start talking, but no words come out. He tries again. Looking at the crowd, he takes a deep breath, then brings the microphone slowly to his mouth. With his eyes locked straight into Alex’s, he stands still for what feels like over a minute. Then… Ricardo: “Alex, you know it’s gonna take a lot more to convince me of something like that.” Ricardo stomps away from Geraldson and grabs his crown. He places it firmly on his head as the crowd starts cheering. Sacramento stands stock still, watching and listening to the crowd. Finally, he whirls and faces down Geraldson once again. Ricardo: “I’m gonna promise you something. We’ll take each other on again, but not tonight. I’ll see you soon, though, I promise! When that time comes, the King of San Francisco will show you what happens out in the real world!” He drops the mic and leaves the ring, walking to the back as his music plays once again, leaving Geraldson standing in the ring. Ricardo raises his hands at the entrance ramp to the audience’s adulation and goes to part the curtains and walk backstage, but is thrown back out to the entrance ramp. JA: “What the hell?!” Ricardo staggers to get and turn around, only to met with a stiff clothesline by Christopher Steele. Ricardo falls to the ground in pain. Christopher looks around the audience, while Alex sits in the ring smiling. Steele picks up Ricardo, and suplexes him on the hard steel. Ricardo holds his back in pain, while Christopher steps back to look at Alex. Alex: “Ricardo..it doesn’t matter if you said yes or no…I am saving this company, and nothing will stop me!!!” Alex’s music plays as he walks out of the ring. Alex meets Christopher for a hug, as they both look and laugh at Ricardo in pain. The Movement walks to the backstage area, while Sacramento is still lying on the ground in pain. Andrews: First they ask him to join them, then they attack him when they don’t get the answer they want? Pathetic. Slam: They’re a powerful duo John. ————————————————————————————————- A graphic shows Chris Hardcore JA: Well ladies and gentlemen, tonight we will hear from the RWF Champion, Chris Hardcore, and he’s said he has a message for his Valentine’s Massacre opponent, Justin Moshe. ————————————————————————————————- MATCH TWO: JAY SAKER VS HAVOK Toby Mac’s Showstopper http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XAIv4ocjdEA plays out over the PA system, and out steps Jay Saker followed by his trainer Andrea Carson. He makes his way confidently to the ring, stopping once or twice to high five an audience member, and once he stops to flirt with an attractive blonde, until Andrea smacks him upside the head to get his head back in the game. He panders to the audience, hitting a pose here and there. JA: Why does it seem like Jay never has his head where it matters? RS: This is why he brought Andrea into the mix, she forces him to pay attention and makes him live up to his potential. JA: That was…surprisingly informative. After a few seconds http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rg2BvmFKCvc Godsmack’s the Enemy plays out and is accompanied with Havok running out and screaming once loudly, before tearing off towards the ring, he slides in under the ropes and pops up to a chorus of cheers. RS: Well, Jay is a friend of mine you know. JA: We ALL know. Let’s talk about Havok- I’m thinking this will be a surprisingly good matches Jay and Havok have similar styles. Don’t blink folks, these guys are quick. The bell rings and both men begin circling each other, dipping low occasionally to try to open the other man up. Havok jumps the gun and goes for Jay’s legs, which Jay leapfrogs over, and rebounds off the ropes with a flying burrito that catches Havok as he is turning around. JA: Looks like Havok’s prolonged absence has left him a step behind. RS: C’mon JAY! Kick his ass! JA: You are so getting fined. Jay snaps up of the ground, almost with a Jeff J-A-R-R-E-T-T strut pacing the ring. JA: I can see Jay still can’t help showboating. RS: If you had EVER been in a ring, you’d know that keeping the crowd behind you is every bit as important as dismantling an opponent. Havok is up and sees Jay over by the corner and goes to ram him into the turnbuckle… RS: Watch out Jay! …but Jay again leapfrogs the attack. Havok hits the ring post head first and falls into a seated position, Jay grabs the ring ropes and swings into a dropkick. When Havok stops rolling around Saker points at Andrea Carson, who nods, and pulls off a perfect split-leg moonsault. JA: Looks like Jay is in complete control. Do you know if Andrea has an opening for new clients? RS: As of this second; I am her agent and we’ll discuss this off camera. The ref slides in… 1… 2… 3!!!! JA: A dominating performance by Jay Saker. What a change we’ve seen in him. RS: Its a complete change in focus, that was what he needed. Jay slides out and walks with Andrea up the ramp, celebrating, as Havok rolls to a knee shakes his head and slowly follows them out. JA: What’s wrong with Havok? RS: He got his ass kicked by my buddy! ————————————————————————————————- COMMERCIAL ————————————————————————————————- PART 3 The camera comes up on the backstage area outside Derrick Anderson’s office. A young, blonde haired gentleman stands by FP: Hello RWF! My name is Freddy Porter and I am your new backstage correspondent! I am standing by Derrick Anderson’s office to get more comments on the next, RWF Pay-Per-View, Valentine’s Day Massa- The camera pans to show Chris Hardcore standing by him CH: Come with me. Hardcore grabs Porter by the collar and drags him through the backstage area. Hardcore stops outside a door labeled, “Justin Moshe” CH: The second my music hits, you tell him to get his stupid ass to a monitor. Hardcore leaves the area as Porter looks on confused ————————————————————————————————- Reckless and Relentless-Asking Alexandria hits the PA as Chris Hardcore walks onto the stage slowly. He makes his way down the ramp, pulling the RWF logo off the microphone in his hand. Hardcore slides in the ring, puts the RWF Championship at his feet and brings the mic to his mouth CH: I have a lot of things to get off my chest. Fans cheer CH: First off; I am getting pretty damn sick and tired of hearing my name come from Justin Moshe’s face. Justin, you have come into this company, turned it on it’s head and proven that you belong in the main event picture; but you are still so far, far away from being the best. The fans boo a little as Hardcore pauses CH: You see, the difference between you and me Justin, is you’re so focused on what all of these people think, you won’t do anything to just be yourself. You’re another cookie cutter “superstar” who worries more about “how many t-shirts can I sell today? I hope my hair looks nice for the girls!” The fans boo a little louder CH: You have this camera man who follows you around like you’re so new and unique and everything you do is original. I may get flack for being like CM Punk but at least I come out here and back up what I say each and every week. There’s a reason I have the Championship and that’s because I have proven that I should be a champion. I have paid my dues in companies all over the world. I have bled, I have cried, I have broken bones to get to where I am but I never once complained because “a match was too bloody and graphic and I don’t like that” The male demographic of fans begin to cheer. Hardcore turns to the crowd CH: Oh hang on, all you “fans” who are cheering me right now? Don’t think I don’t understand you jackasses.You idiots cheer me all you want and act like you get what I’m talking about but three weeks from now you’re gonna be all over the internet at twitter bitching and complaining about how, “Chris Hardcore is just trying to be CM Punk.” and “Oh em gee did you see his shoot? Not even as good as CM Punk. What a wannabe el oh el” The fans boo loudly as Hardcore looks into the camera and holds up the RWF Championship CH: This, Justin, is mine. Not because I’m who they want, but because I worked my ass off my entire career. You don’t create and compete in a Hell on Earth Match twice in one career. You, Justin, are nothing compared to me and what I’ve done for this business and what I will continue to do for this business. As much as I respect you, Justin because I do, you will never…be…me. Hardcore drops the mic and makes his way out of the arena. The camera shows Justin Moshe backstage watching ————————————————————————————————- COMMERCIAL ————————————————————————————————- MATCH THREE: JUSTIN MOSHE VS CHRISTOPHER STEEL W/ALEX GERALDSON Chris Steel’s music hits and the crowd reacts; the loudest boos anyone has heard erupt once he steps out, but Chris seems unfazed by this, smiling as he Vana Whites’s the entrance and Alex Geraldson comes out and the crowd let’s him have it. JA: The crowd still hasn’t forgiven Alex yet. RS: He has no need to apologize, he did the right thing. JA: I’m not sure that I’ve figured out why he did it yet. The Movement make their way to the ring and as they approach it the music changes and Justin Moshe’s music cuts through the crowd, and they erupt. Justin comes limping out… JA: Apparently Justin is still suffering the effects of that vicious chair shot he received earlier. RS: Where I come from, a guy barges in your room like Moshi-moshi did deserves any beating he gets. Moshe gingerly rolls into the ring and Chris is on him before the bell rings, stomping, and kicking, he drops an elbow and just stays on top of Justin, hammering away. Alex is slamming on the mat, cheering his partner in crime on, laughing openly at Justin’s pain. RS: Wow, Steel came in ready to deliver a beating! Alex Geraldson walks up to the announcers table, pointing at the in ring carnage and shouting “You see this? This is what the Movement will bring to you!” JA: But why?! Justin manages to get Steel’s head in a leg scissor stopping his assault to at least breathe for a second. Steel pulls off a headstand rolls out of the leg scissor and hits a nasty dropkick to the seated Moshe. RS: Hope he’s all paid up on his dental insurance. Chris Steel starts to prance around posing like it was back in his bodybuilding days, pausing after a second to deliver a leg drop. JA: I’m not sure that Moshe can even protect himself in there. RS: He is looking pretty out of it. Moshe is rolling around and Steel is kicking him towards the rope and finally out of the ring, casually he begins to talk to the ref, and Geraldson starts hammering away on Moshe, but Moshe pushes him off and hits a drop toe hold that causes Geraldson to hit the steel barricade. JA: That might just be what Moshe needed to turn this around Steel points at this and after some quick mental math the ref starts his count at 3… And Moshe is climbing in but stops and looks at the prone form of Geraldson, hops and performs an Assai Moonsault on Alex, who wraps Moshe up The ref continues to count 4…5… But Alex is holding Moshe… 6… Moshe breaks free but Alex grabs his foot JA: Hey Ref! stop the count already! RS: For what. JA: This is clearly cheating! 7… Moshe kicks off Alex and scrambles for the ring. 8… Moshe climbs up but Steel dropkicks him 9… Moshe’s chin hits the barricade and he goes down. 10!!! The ref signals for the bell and Steel Rolls out of the ring, and both he and Alex attack the near unconscious Moshe, but Scott comes out of the backstage area with a number of referees and security. The Movement climbs over the barricade and through the crowd. JA: Thank God for Scott! RS: Shut up! He got what he deserved, now maybe he’ll get off of his high horse. ————————————————————————————————- COMMERCIAL-PROMO FOR PPV ————————————————————————————————- A graphic shows HvX and Mikko Paatalo with the words “Champions Choice” JA: Well ladies and gentlemen, we are being told that next week, live on Battleground, eXtreme Champion Mikko Paatalo and the Tag Team Champions will be able to choose their respective opponents; however, HvX cannot take on Mikko Paatalo. So, next week, Mikko Paatalo will select two superstars to take on HvX and HvX will select one superstar to take on Mikko Paatalo! RS: That’s gonna be interesting! ————————————————————————————————- MAIN EVENT: RWF TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIPS: HVX © VS A.O.A (STEEL CAGE) The crowd is simmering in anticipation as the time for our main event arrives. Announcer Douglas Laurie stands at ringside, and glances up warily at the heavy, unyielding bars of the old-school cage hanging above the ring. It’s purple instead of classic blue, being built and donated by Glorious Nation of Hurtsville, to the most exacting of specifications. These walls would stop an elephant. Laurie: Now presenting our Main Event! The following contest is a Steel Cage Match for the RWF Tag Team Championships, and the winner will be the first team to have both members exit the cage! Introducing first our challengers, the team of Victor Storms and Lee Mercer, the Army… Of… Anarchyyyyyyy!! ‘The More’ comes blasting out of the PA system and a line of pyro goes off from one end of the stage to the other, then back again. Running out through the sparks and smoke come Victor Storms and Lee Mercer. The crowd is both cheering and booing these up-and-comers. They pose briefly at the top of the ramp, and Mercer finally has the bandages off. Storms is, of course, holding Sally. The two pause for just an instant, then run down the ramp in unison and slide into the ring, ready for action. Slam: He’s awfully possessive of that bat. He almost makes Armondo look rational! Andrews: I liked it better when you were fired. Laurie: And now introducing the RWF Tag Team Champions, all the way from the Nation of Hurstville, Senor Tigre and The Foiler, The Hurtsville Express! The arena lights cut out abruptly, and after a few moments of blackness a hazy purple light begins to fill the arena, filtering down from the rafters. When it reaches the ring, the cage is already in place and HVX is standing behind Mercer and Storms, who are looking up the ramp at Wilikins shuffling down to ringside with Senorita Parrote on his shoulder, the tag belts in hand. The Foiler and Senor Tigre exchange a glance, and as the crowd absolutely explodes, The Foiler taps Lee Mercer lightly on the shoulder, and greets the surprised brawler with an evil headbutt that sends him to the ground. At the same time, Storms crumples as Senor Tigre cuts his legs out with an expert sweep. Tigre grabs Sally from the mat, shakes his head, and throws the bat over the cage wall. Andrews: I can’t believe it! HVX set them up! What a way to start this match! Slam: They’re always doing this stuff! Aren’t there rules here? Natural laws? Andrews: Not when HVX is involved! Slam: Next you’ll start with the ‘ahahaha’ stuff! Inside the cage, The Foiler begins to pick up Mercer, but he pushes off the mat and rams The Foiler’s back into the bars, then lays in a shot to the midsection. Senor Tigre is exchanging strikes with Storms, ducks a clothesline attempt and kicks Storms’ in the knee, causing Storms to stumble backwards to the corner. The Foiler blocks a punch from Mercer and taps his chin, egging Lee on. Mercer is fired up and takes a big swing, falling into The Foiler’s trap. The Foiler sidesteps and lets Mercer’s momentum carry him around, then grabs him from behind and launches Mercer into the cage with a half-nelson suplex! Mercer hits the cage with his neck and shoulders, and lands awkwardly on the mat with a leg tangled in the ropes. Andrews: Holy… that cage has no give at all. Mercer might be done already! With Storms in the corner, Senor Tigre springboards from the second rope and goes for a flying knee that Victor sidesteps. Tigre manages to land on the second turnbuckle safely, but Victor is still a step ahead and lands a forearm to Tigre’s back, grabs his head and lays out, bringing Tigre down from the turnbuckle with an opportunistic modified sleeper slam. Seeing The Foiler looming over partner, Victor keeps his momentum going and hits a running dropkick to the Purple Punisher that catches him hard in the back and knocks his head into the steel bars. Slam: Looks like Storms managed to string together a whole thought! Storms grabs The Foiler’s head and slams it against the steel again, then climbs the nearby turnbuckle himself. He leaps as The Foiler shakes the cobwebs out, and Storms brings the monster to the mat with a Blockbuster from the top rope! Andrews: Big offense from Storms! Victor checks on Lee, who is finally getting to his feet again, when Senor Tigre introduces his face to the mat via a running Fame-Ass-er. As he stands, Lee Mercer is waiting with a pair of hard shots to the gut. Mercer picks up the Felonious Feline in a scoop lift and runs forward, ramming Tigre into the bars. He steps back and adjusts his grip, a smirk on his face. Slam: Don’t count out the rat! Lee Mercer readies himself and brings Senor Tigre up and over his head in a Fallaway Slam, showing off his strength. Senor Tigre is up in the air but is caught by a reinvigorated The Foiler, who in turn brings Tigre down onto Victor Storms with a basic front slam. Mercer poses, flexing to the crowd who are going nuts for this slug fest He turns to follow up, but The Foiler is ready and catches him with effortless proficiency and Mercer comes crashing down to the mat, victim of a Michinoku Driver. The Foiler rears back with a sinister chuckle. Andrews: Some impressive moves by this mysterious character! Each of these men is giving it all they’ve got! Senor Tigre and Victor Storms are on their feet again, this time locking up in a traditional collar-and-elbow. Tigre slides into a headlock, but Storms stomps his instep and throws an elbow or two to the gut, creating a little separation and pushing Tigre off into a modified Irish whip towards the nearby wall, where Tigre goes chest-first into the cold metal. Storms takes a few quick steps and hits a jumping knee between Tigre’s shoulders that sends him into the wall again! The Foiler heads over to intervene, but Lee Mercer reaches up from the mat and grabs his ankle. The Foiler shakes free but Mercer and Storms are both on him now. With Storms kicking away at his legs and a well-placed clothesline from Lee, The Foiler is brought down. Slam: Now there’s something you don’t see every day. Each member of the AoA grab one of The Foiler’s legs and drag him towards the center of a cage wall, with their backs to it. Storms releases the leg and moves to the far wall as Mercer gets The Foiler in position for a catapult. With the massive legs hooked, Mercer wrenches back and the leverage brings The Foiler up face-first into the bars with a nasty thunk! Storms is already charging in, and he springboards from the top rope next to The Foiler to catch the Comical Colossus with a flying knee to the jaw as he rebounds from the cage wall. Senor Tigre is back up, but the AoA are focused on the The Foiler. Andrews: Beautiful teamwork, and great use of the environment too! ————————————————————————————————- COMMERCIAL ————————————————————————————————- As The Foiler goes down, Senor Tigre pounces on the off-balance Storms and tackles him to the mat, landing a brutal right hand while popping back up to his feet and hitting an impressive Pele kick that connects with the pursuant Lee Mercer. Tigre spins and goes for a big roundhouse to Victor, but he hits the mat to avoid it and kicks out Tigre’s other leg. Storms grabs Senor Tigre and plants him with a DDT. Storms backs up to the ropes and measures Tigre, then moves in and jumps up for a double knee drop, but Senor Tigre rolls out of the way and Storms rolls over as he lands, holding his knee. Andrews: That knee has taken some damage now. Great evasion by Senor Tigre! You might call those… cat-like reflexes? Slam: I think I’d call them urk! The unconscious body of Rodney Slam flops to the ground as Wilikins nonchalantly slides his hand in and out of his pocket, the platter containing the tag straps still balanced expertly in his hand. Wilikins sits down, appropriates Slam’s mic, and begins polishing the belts absent-mindedly. Wilikins: Heya, mack. Enjoyin’ the show? Andrews: Edge of my seat, sir! Shouldn’t you be watching the match though, not polishing the belts? Wilikins: Not much point, mack. Belts gotta be shiny, ya know Andrews: shrugs Right on. Looking to capitalize on Storms’ mistake, Senor Tigre gets himself upright and delivers a stomp to Victor’s weakened knee, however the offense is cut short by a clothesline from Lee Mercer. Mercer turns and helps Storms up, but behind them The Foiler stirs. He kips up, impressive for a being of such mass, and knocks Mercer scrambling with a shoulder block. Not missing a beat, The Foiler grabs Victor Storms by the head with both cruel hands and lifts him, shakes him hard, and throws him against the steel cage. Almost on instinct, Storms clings to the cage and pushes off, rotating in the air to catch The Foiler with a diving elbow smash that stuns him. Storms hits the ground and tries to catch his breath, kneading some feeling back into his injured leg. Senor Tigre is trying to shake it off, crawling to the ropes to pull himself upright. A battered Lee Mercer, looking as much for an escape as a win, starts climbing the purple bars with aching limbs, his progress slow but sure. The Foiler catches him out of the corner of his eye, and as he turns to pursue the scrambling Brooklynite he is met with a desperate kick to the back from Victor Storms, who follows up with a right hook to where the kidney might be on a more typical opponent. The Foiler is again staggered, but spins around and gets a hand up to block a haymaker. Across the ring, Lee Mercer is halfway to the top of the cage, but Senor Tigre has started to follow him up. Andrews: The tension here is incredible! What will these maniacs do next? Wilikins: Seen it before. Like I said, belts gotta be shiny, mack. Senor Tigre catches up to Mercer as he nears the top of the cage and grabs his wrist, the two exchanging blows while struggling to climb the arcane structure and hanging on for dear life. The two inch closer and closer. Back on the mat, The Foiler no-sells another hard shot from Storms and answers not with a fist, but a poke to the eyes! Storms yelps and rubs at his eyes, stumbling away, and The Foiler pauses for a quick ‘Ahaha!’ before grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and slamming him face-first into the cage! We can see a sticky red substance seep out between Victor’s fingers. Andrews: That blood is right in his eyes! He’s blind! The Foiler has him helpless! Wilikins: shrugs Typical. A hidden, primal part of our brains registers the extra pointiness of The Foiler’s permanently-bared teeth as he watches Storms flail, swinging at nothing, unable to open his eyes for the slick of blood running down his face. The Foiler looks up to where Senor Tigre and Lee Mercer continue to struggle. Mercer has gotten a leg over the edge now, and is using his free hand to keep Senor Tigre at a distance as he gradually shifts his weight. Down on the mat, The Foiler nearly decapitates Victor Storms with a lariat from behind, then turns and shouts to his hermano ‘It’s over!’ Andrews: What are they playing at here? The titles are one the line! A sinister smile has Senor Tigre baring his fangs, and he ducks under the swinging arm of Lee Mercer and connects with a blow to the temple that leaves him dazed, nagging precariously over the edge of the structure. Tigre quickly finds a better foothold, and nails Mercer in the head with the point of his elbow, causing Mercer to lose his grip! Slam: Wait… Senor Tigre shoves Lee hard and he falls over the edge and off the cage, landing hard on the thin mats at ringside! Paramedics rush over to the broken heap of a man and carefully brace him and put him on a stretcher. Andrews: Mercer is out, and he’s really out! Meanwhile, The Foiler has turned his attention back to Victor Storms, who is still laid out. He bends down and puts Storms in a standing necklock, setting him for what appears to be a powerbomb. Storms tries to struggle out, a last-ditch attempt to save himself, but a forearm club to the back puts a stop to that. The Foiler hoists him up high around the waist, letting his head dangle and watching with sadistic glee as the blood drips from Victor’s head to the mat. With a resounding chuckle, The Foiler drives Storms’ unsupported neck down to the mat with such force that the raucous crowd is hushed! Andrews: Ganso Bomb! Ganso Bomb! That might be the most dangerous move in professional wrestling! That man will be lucky to escape permanent nerve damage! Wilikins: Shiny enough, you think? Without waiting for Andrews’ response, Wilikins gathers up the belts and places them back atop the ornate hand-inlaid silver platter, shuffling disinterestedly over towards the chained cage door. The Foiler takes a step back, crosses his arms, and looks up to Senor Tigre, who is perched now on the top of the cage. With feline grace, Senor Tigre hops up and rotates, his back now turned to the inside of the cage, and launches himself high in the air, executing a museum-quality moonsault that takes him even above the level of the cage, coming down like a clawed anvil, landing in senton position on top of the prone Victor Storms with his arms crossed a la M. Bison. The recently silenced crowd erupts with the biggest pop of the night, shouting and crying and booing and cheering, amazed at the brutality of the match and the daredevil bloodlust as much as the amazing maneuver itself. After a moment, Tigre stands triumphantly and steps over the squishy mess that was once Victor Storms. Andrews: That’s the Dictator Drop! Tigre just hit the Dictator Drop from the top of the cage! This is done! The Hurtsville Express just cannot be stopped! Those monsters might have killed the AoA! In the ring, The Foiler claps Senor Tigre on the back and the two share a laugh. The Foiler walks towards the cage door and delivers a half-hearted kick that breaks the lock and sends the door flying open. The Hurtsville Express walk out of the cage door together to where Wilikins and Senorita Parrote are waiting. Wilikins hands the straps to the champs, and they hold them high for a moment, both grapplers laughing smugly. From inside his too-tight-to-hold-this-kind-of-stuff tuxedo jacket, Wilikins produces a microphone that The Foiler takes, turning towards the cage and bringing the mic up. The Foiler: Told ya so. Ahahahahaha! The Foiler tosses the microphone back to Wilikins, and purple smoke envelops the trio and their dastardly bird friend. There is a brilliant purple flash and a ‘parp’ noise, and they are gone. Laurie: Ummm… the winners of this match and still your RWF Tag Team Champions, Senor Tigre and The Foiler, The Hurtsville Expreeeeeesssss!